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As promised, here's the next chapter. Note: The Assistant Medical Examiner is built after Tru Davies (from "Tru Calling"), and the name of the pub owner is a combination from two "Angel" characters, Francis Allen Doyle and Lindsey McDonald.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FBI Building
White Collar offices
After talking to Sara some more and grabbing a bit to eat, Peter finally made it back to the office almost an hour later. Exiting the elevator, he saw Reese Hughes standing with Diana and Bancroft, all of them wearing a somber expression. Within a heartbeat, the positive mindset he had upon leaving the hospital was gone from Peter’s brain, replaced by a mix of worry and fear.
“Peter, good thing you’re here.”
Peter nodded at Bancroft before turning to Hughes. “Reese, what’s going on?”
“Agent Burke, they just fished a body matching Caffrey’s description from the Hudson.” Bancroft’s voice was void of emotions, but Peter felt that the agent from Washington had to put up a fight to keep it that way. Peter himself flopped down in a chair nearby, his legs suddenly not able to keep him upright.
“Are they sure it’s him?”
“No, Peter, and the M.E. said that the man died approximately an hour or so earlier”, Hughes added.
“I want to see him.”
“Peter, I…”
Peter got up again, anger and grief fueling his energy.
“I don’t care if it’s a good idea or not, but I need to see him with my own eyes. Don’t deny me this kind of closure, Reese.”
“I accompany you, Boss,” Diana added, her voice calm in order to placate both of her bosses.
“Alright.” Hughes nodded at Peter, and his stoic face expression softened to a degree. “I know you and Caffrey were friends. Go, Peter.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
New York Harbor
several minutes earlier
From his hiding spot, Neal watched the flurry of FBI agents, NYPD officers and CSU personnel working around Bryan’s body. Now that he wasn’t wearing the mask anymore, Neal could see that he and his cohort had apparently taken precautions for this case. While he remembered Bryan to have a light hair color, the man lying on the floor had almost Neal’s color. And he would win any bet that his now dead kidnapper was also wearing tinted contacts to match Neal’s eye color, as well as some plastic surgeries.
Finally, they put the body in a body bag and the Coroner left with it. Feeling suddenly very tired, Neal slid down the wall of yet another warehouse. A big part of him was for getting up again and walking over to the good guys. But he also knew that Bryan’s partner in crime was still at large and in the area, so endangering other people was the last thing Neal wanted. He already had done too much damage since he started working for Peter, their high solving rate be damned.
Watching the police cruisers leaving the scene, Neal leaned back on the wall and gave in to the tiredness in his body, but not before sending a last prayer up to the skies to give Peter a hint.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
City Morgue
Upon entering the building halfway across Manhattan with Diana, Peter felt dread creeping up on him. In his line of work, it wasn’t the first time he had to be here. But in all the other cases, it wasn’t about a friend. Part of his brain already tried to come up with a proper way to give the sad news to Mozzie, June and El, though Peter wasn’t sure if there even was one.
From the corner of his eyes, he saw Diana talking to the Assistant Medical Examiner, a petite, young woman with long brown hair. In front of him, the Chief Medical Examiner was busy preparing the body for them to identify, oblivious to their connection and what seeing their friend, their colleague lying motionless on the cold steel slab would do to them, to their heart, to their soul.
“You ready, Agents?”
The soft voice of the AME brought Peter out of his reverie, and he just nodded, not sure if his voice wouldn’t break. The woman turned around and nodded to the ME, signaling him to reveal the body.
The ME did, and within seconds, both Peter and Diana were going through a multitude of emotions. Anticipation, the onset of grief, and last but not least, surprise. While Peter was still reeling from the scene in front of him, Diana was able to turn her surprise in words.
“Whoever this is, it’s definitely not Caffrey.”
“You sure?” the AME questioned, her face a mixture of surprise, confusion and sympathy. It wouldn’t be the first time in her career that the bereaved, regardless of their relation to the deceased, would refuse to believe that their friend, colleague, partner really was lying there behind the window.
“Absolutely.” Again, Diana was the one to speak, while Peter just stared ahead at the body on the stainless steel table. Somehow, he knew that he had seen that face before, but try as he might, he couldn’t place it for the life of him.
“Agent…”
“…Berrigan.”
“Agent Berrigan, take a look again.”
Diana felt that the woman was just doing her job, so she tried to be as calm as possible.
“Listen, I know you’re just doing your job, and in any other case, I wouldn’t argue. But believe me when I say that this body in there,” Diana pointed to the window for emphasis, “isn’t what everyone wants to believe.”
“I understand. It’s just that we found this,” the AME pulled an evidence bag out of one of the pockets on her coat, “on the body.”
She handed the bag over to Diana, and for the first time since coming in here, Peter turned away from the window and looked at the content. It was a driving license for New York, and it was Neal’s. Peter wasn’t sure if Neal even had one, at least with his real name, but he couldn’t care less if it was real or fake at the moment.
“That could have been placed”, Peter said with an emotionless voice while handing the bag back to the woman.
“Why? If the body really isn’t”, the AME looked at the license, “Neal Caffrey, why does someone wants you to believe he is dead?”
Diana and Peter shared a look.
“His kidnappers”, Diana answered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mozzie’s safe house
The mood inside the spacious loft was part anticipation, part worry. Ever since Peter ordered him to take up residence here, Mozzie had managed to get June and Bugsy over to his place as well. Right now, Satchmo and Bugsy were playing on the carpet, while Elizabeth and June exchanged stories and enjoyed a cup of tea. Nearby, Sally was working furiously on a computer, trying to get as much information on the manipulated anklet data as possible. Carrying a tablet with two more cups of tea, Mozzie came up to her.
“And? Any luck?”
“Yes and no.” Mozzie gave her a quizzical look. “I mean, I got back to the point where I got the first time, but not any further.” She looked up at him, and Mozzie understood that she needed his help. He sat down at the keyboard next to hers, his fingers already hovering over the keys.
“What do you need?”
“I need you to create a diversion.” Mozzie started to type. “As soon as you have alerted them, I might get a chance to get in and retrieve the data I need.”
The next few minutes were silent, except for the almost synchronized clapping of the keys.
“Yes!!” Sally exclaimed, causing not only June and Elizabeth, but also Satchmo and Bugsy to look up at her. Seeing the surprised faces, Sally couldn’t help but blush lightly.
“Sorry, but this was definitely the most complicated hack I have ever done.” She suddenly remembered the profession of Elizabeth’s husband. “That’s something your husband doesn’t have to know, okay?” she said, fixing El in her seat with a look.
“Of course.” El got up and came over to the table. “Sally, as long as we get Neal back to us, I’m sure Peter is okay with almost everything.” She looked at the screen, but all she could see were columns of numbers. “So, were the data really tinkered with?”
“Yeah, absolutely.” Sally scanned the numbers. “And if I read that right, they did it from an office in…,” she paused, trying to understand the location, “…Washington?!?”
“Washington? As in Washington D.C.?” Mozzie exclaimed, the paranoia in him already on the raise.
“Mozzie, calm down. You won’t do Neal anything good if you land yourself in the hospital with a cardiac arrest,” El said while retrieving her phone from her bag. “Peter needs to know about that, asap.”
But before she could even pull up his number, Peter was calling her.
“Hey, Hon.”
“Hey.”
Elizabeth immediately noticed the slightly defeated edge to his voice, but she blamed it on the case.
“Hey, everything’s alright? You sound tired.”
She moved a bit away from the others, trying to create something along the lines of privacy.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Now. And yes, I’m more than a bit tired.”
“What happened?”
“They found a body in the Hudson, down at the Harbor.”
“Is it…?” El began.
“No, it isn’t Neal, though somebody wants us to believe it.”
“Why? And who?”
Before Peter could answer, Mozzie tipped her on the shoulder, causing El to spin around.
“We might be able to answer your second question.” He motioned to the phone. “Put Peter on speaker, please.”
“Okay.” She turned her attention back to her husband. “You heard that?”
“Yeah, and I guess that Sally somehow got to the bottom of the anklet data mystery.”
“Oh yeah, but that’s all I’m allowed to tell you.”
For the first time in some time (probably since this whole crazy case began), Peter was able to laugh out. Leave it to Mozzie (and Sally) to be afraid of repercussions for saving their common friend. Right now, he couldn't care less about their means, as long as they led them all somehow to Neal.
“Okay, hon, you’re on speaker now,” El said while putting the phone down on the table between Mozzie and Sally.
“Okay, Mozzie, Sally, I’m listening.”
“Hello, Agent Burke,” Sally began. “We finally got hold of the source of the tinkering.”
“So who did it?”
“It was done from an office in Washington D.C.,” Mozzie continued, “and as far as we have found out from here, it’s on the same level as the OPR offices.”
“Fowler,” all humans, except for Sally, said almost at the same time. The dogs on the carpet stopped their game again, looking from one human to the other in confusion.
“Well, that would explain a lot”, Peter said.
“Like what, Suit?” Mozzie inquired, the curiosity getting the better of him.
“Like the fact that his accomplices were both imprisoned at Rikers, just like himself.”
“Accomplices?” June cut in.
“Yeah, we have John Deckard, a former U.S. Marshal, in custody at Trinity, and right now, I’m standing just outside the City Morgue, where we have Bryan McKenzie, dead.”
“Deckard?” Mozzie echoed. “The corrupt Marshal from the Franklin case?” He saw the inquiring faces of the women, but he just gave them a wave. There was no time right now to take a trip down memory lane.
“Exactly the same. But don’t worry, he’s guarded heavily and he won’t get to see any daylight for the rest of his life.”
“Good to know.”
“Hon, who is Bryan McKenzie?” El asked. She knew a lot of names from Peter’s cases, but this one didn’t ring a bell.
“He was not only Sara’s former boss at Sterling Bosch, they two of them also had a personal history, from what Diana told me. It was the case she and Neal did together while we were celebrating your birthday.”
“Oh, okay.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
New York Harbor
Francis Allen McDonald was every bit of your typical American Irish. And probably nobody was surprised to learn that he owned a small pub near the Harbor. It has left his heydays already far behind it, but still, night after night, a loyal crowd could be found inside the building.
Which on the other hand meant that he had to prepare the pub during the day. Opening the wooden gate leading to the beverage storage, McDonald was lost in his own thoughts, mostly on what he might get his wife Barbara for their upcoming wedding anniversary – until the sudden appearance of a pair of striking blue eyes jolted him out of his reverie.
“Holy Mary!” McDonald took a deep breath and finally got a good look at the young man in the dirty rags, leaning on one of the big Guinness barrels as if it was the only thing to keep him upright.
“So… sorry… didn’t mean to scare you,” the young man stuttered out, pulling his whole body ever so slowly behind the barrel, as if to create a physical barrier between him and McDonald.
“You didn’t, son. I was just lost in my own world, you know?” McDonald took a step toward the man, which caused his guest to visibly flinch. What on God’s green Earth had happened to this stranger?
“Son, can I help you somehow?”
The younger man blinked, as if he didn’t understand a word McDonald was saying. McDonald on the other hand took the time his guest was contemplating the offer to give him a onceover. The dirty rags resembled, with just some imagination, a pair of jeans, a shirt and a jacket, but somehow, the stranger was without some shoes.
“Could… could I get just a glass of water?” the young man said all of a sudden.
“Of course, son. Come, let’s get you inside. It’s probably a bit warmer as well.”
The young man hesitated for a second before slowly following McDonald over to the back door of his pub.
Once inside, McDonald led the stranger over to the nearest booth, where the young man all but collapsed, his whole body going limp like a ragdoll. After making sure that his impromptu guest didn’t fall from the bench, McDonald went over to the bar to grab not only a bottle of water, but also a bit to eat for the stranger.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
White Collar offices
Within seconds after Diana’s call about the mistaken identity of the body, the spirits of all agents were lifted. They all would have closed the case nonetheless, but now, knowing that Neal might still be alive, gave them all a new surge of energy and hope.
When Peter and Diana came back, Jones, Bancroft and Hughes were up in the conference room, going over the information they got from the NYPD regarding the location of the body. Diana joined them immediately, while Peter went into his own office, intent on printing out the information Sally had retrieved.
While waiting for his printer to finish the job, Peter did some thinking. Why was Fowler attacking Neal right now? And how many others were involved in the case? He looked up, out to the bullpen and the many agents in the unit. Did they have a mole in here? Was one of the higher-ups, both here in New York and down in Washington, involved? Shaking his head, Peter refocused his attention on the job at hand – bringing Neal home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Coming soon: Neal is finally reunited with the team – and with Sara.
FBI Building
White Collar offices
After talking to Sara some more and grabbing a bit to eat, Peter finally made it back to the office almost an hour later. Exiting the elevator, he saw Reese Hughes standing with Diana and Bancroft, all of them wearing a somber expression. Within a heartbeat, the positive mindset he had upon leaving the hospital was gone from Peter’s brain, replaced by a mix of worry and fear.
“Peter, good thing you’re here.”
Peter nodded at Bancroft before turning to Hughes. “Reese, what’s going on?”
“Agent Burke, they just fished a body matching Caffrey’s description from the Hudson.” Bancroft’s voice was void of emotions, but Peter felt that the agent from Washington had to put up a fight to keep it that way. Peter himself flopped down in a chair nearby, his legs suddenly not able to keep him upright.
“Are they sure it’s him?”
“No, Peter, and the M.E. said that the man died approximately an hour or so earlier”, Hughes added.
“I want to see him.”
“Peter, I…”
Peter got up again, anger and grief fueling his energy.
“I don’t care if it’s a good idea or not, but I need to see him with my own eyes. Don’t deny me this kind of closure, Reese.”
“I accompany you, Boss,” Diana added, her voice calm in order to placate both of her bosses.
“Alright.” Hughes nodded at Peter, and his stoic face expression softened to a degree. “I know you and Caffrey were friends. Go, Peter.”
New York Harbor
several minutes earlier
From his hiding spot, Neal watched the flurry of FBI agents, NYPD officers and CSU personnel working around Bryan’s body. Now that he wasn’t wearing the mask anymore, Neal could see that he and his cohort had apparently taken precautions for this case. While he remembered Bryan to have a light hair color, the man lying on the floor had almost Neal’s color. And he would win any bet that his now dead kidnapper was also wearing tinted contacts to match Neal’s eye color, as well as some plastic surgeries.
Finally, they put the body in a body bag and the Coroner left with it. Feeling suddenly very tired, Neal slid down the wall of yet another warehouse. A big part of him was for getting up again and walking over to the good guys. But he also knew that Bryan’s partner in crime was still at large and in the area, so endangering other people was the last thing Neal wanted. He already had done too much damage since he started working for Peter, their high solving rate be damned.
Watching the police cruisers leaving the scene, Neal leaned back on the wall and gave in to the tiredness in his body, but not before sending a last prayer up to the skies to give Peter a hint.
City Morgue
Upon entering the building halfway across Manhattan with Diana, Peter felt dread creeping up on him. In his line of work, it wasn’t the first time he had to be here. But in all the other cases, it wasn’t about a friend. Part of his brain already tried to come up with a proper way to give the sad news to Mozzie, June and El, though Peter wasn’t sure if there even was one.
From the corner of his eyes, he saw Diana talking to the Assistant Medical Examiner, a petite, young woman with long brown hair. In front of him, the Chief Medical Examiner was busy preparing the body for them to identify, oblivious to their connection and what seeing their friend, their colleague lying motionless on the cold steel slab would do to them, to their heart, to their soul.
“You ready, Agents?”
The soft voice of the AME brought Peter out of his reverie, and he just nodded, not sure if his voice wouldn’t break. The woman turned around and nodded to the ME, signaling him to reveal the body.
The ME did, and within seconds, both Peter and Diana were going through a multitude of emotions. Anticipation, the onset of grief, and last but not least, surprise. While Peter was still reeling from the scene in front of him, Diana was able to turn her surprise in words.
“Whoever this is, it’s definitely not Caffrey.”
“You sure?” the AME questioned, her face a mixture of surprise, confusion and sympathy. It wouldn’t be the first time in her career that the bereaved, regardless of their relation to the deceased, would refuse to believe that their friend, colleague, partner really was lying there behind the window.
“Absolutely.” Again, Diana was the one to speak, while Peter just stared ahead at the body on the stainless steel table. Somehow, he knew that he had seen that face before, but try as he might, he couldn’t place it for the life of him.
“Agent…”
“…Berrigan.”
“Agent Berrigan, take a look again.”
Diana felt that the woman was just doing her job, so she tried to be as calm as possible.
“Listen, I know you’re just doing your job, and in any other case, I wouldn’t argue. But believe me when I say that this body in there,” Diana pointed to the window for emphasis, “isn’t what everyone wants to believe.”
“I understand. It’s just that we found this,” the AME pulled an evidence bag out of one of the pockets on her coat, “on the body.”
She handed the bag over to Diana, and for the first time since coming in here, Peter turned away from the window and looked at the content. It was a driving license for New York, and it was Neal’s. Peter wasn’t sure if Neal even had one, at least with his real name, but he couldn’t care less if it was real or fake at the moment.
“That could have been placed”, Peter said with an emotionless voice while handing the bag back to the woman.
“Why? If the body really isn’t”, the AME looked at the license, “Neal Caffrey, why does someone wants you to believe he is dead?”
Diana and Peter shared a look.
“His kidnappers”, Diana answered.
Mozzie’s safe house
The mood inside the spacious loft was part anticipation, part worry. Ever since Peter ordered him to take up residence here, Mozzie had managed to get June and Bugsy over to his place as well. Right now, Satchmo and Bugsy were playing on the carpet, while Elizabeth and June exchanged stories and enjoyed a cup of tea. Nearby, Sally was working furiously on a computer, trying to get as much information on the manipulated anklet data as possible. Carrying a tablet with two more cups of tea, Mozzie came up to her.
“And? Any luck?”
“Yes and no.” Mozzie gave her a quizzical look. “I mean, I got back to the point where I got the first time, but not any further.” She looked up at him, and Mozzie understood that she needed his help. He sat down at the keyboard next to hers, his fingers already hovering over the keys.
“What do you need?”
“I need you to create a diversion.” Mozzie started to type. “As soon as you have alerted them, I might get a chance to get in and retrieve the data I need.”
The next few minutes were silent, except for the almost synchronized clapping of the keys.
“Yes!!” Sally exclaimed, causing not only June and Elizabeth, but also Satchmo and Bugsy to look up at her. Seeing the surprised faces, Sally couldn’t help but blush lightly.
“Sorry, but this was definitely the most complicated hack I have ever done.” She suddenly remembered the profession of Elizabeth’s husband. “That’s something your husband doesn’t have to know, okay?” she said, fixing El in her seat with a look.
“Of course.” El got up and came over to the table. “Sally, as long as we get Neal back to us, I’m sure Peter is okay with almost everything.” She looked at the screen, but all she could see were columns of numbers. “So, were the data really tinkered with?”
“Yeah, absolutely.” Sally scanned the numbers. “And if I read that right, they did it from an office in…,” she paused, trying to understand the location, “…Washington?!?”
“Washington? As in Washington D.C.?” Mozzie exclaimed, the paranoia in him already on the raise.
“Mozzie, calm down. You won’t do Neal anything good if you land yourself in the hospital with a cardiac arrest,” El said while retrieving her phone from her bag. “Peter needs to know about that, asap.”
But before she could even pull up his number, Peter was calling her.
“Hey, Hon.”
“Hey.”
Elizabeth immediately noticed the slightly defeated edge to his voice, but she blamed it on the case.
“Hey, everything’s alright? You sound tired.”
She moved a bit away from the others, trying to create something along the lines of privacy.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Now. And yes, I’m more than a bit tired.”
“What happened?”
“They found a body in the Hudson, down at the Harbor.”
“Is it…?” El began.
“No, it isn’t Neal, though somebody wants us to believe it.”
“Why? And who?”
Before Peter could answer, Mozzie tipped her on the shoulder, causing El to spin around.
“We might be able to answer your second question.” He motioned to the phone. “Put Peter on speaker, please.”
“Okay.” She turned her attention back to her husband. “You heard that?”
“Yeah, and I guess that Sally somehow got to the bottom of the anklet data mystery.”
“Oh yeah, but that’s all I’m allowed to tell you.”
For the first time in some time (probably since this whole crazy case began), Peter was able to laugh out. Leave it to Mozzie (and Sally) to be afraid of repercussions for saving their common friend. Right now, he couldn't care less about their means, as long as they led them all somehow to Neal.
“Okay, hon, you’re on speaker now,” El said while putting the phone down on the table between Mozzie and Sally.
“Okay, Mozzie, Sally, I’m listening.”
“Hello, Agent Burke,” Sally began. “We finally got hold of the source of the tinkering.”
“So who did it?”
“It was done from an office in Washington D.C.,” Mozzie continued, “and as far as we have found out from here, it’s on the same level as the OPR offices.”
“Fowler,” all humans, except for Sally, said almost at the same time. The dogs on the carpet stopped their game again, looking from one human to the other in confusion.
“Well, that would explain a lot”, Peter said.
“Like what, Suit?” Mozzie inquired, the curiosity getting the better of him.
“Like the fact that his accomplices were both imprisoned at Rikers, just like himself.”
“Accomplices?” June cut in.
“Yeah, we have John Deckard, a former U.S. Marshal, in custody at Trinity, and right now, I’m standing just outside the City Morgue, where we have Bryan McKenzie, dead.”
“Deckard?” Mozzie echoed. “The corrupt Marshal from the Franklin case?” He saw the inquiring faces of the women, but he just gave them a wave. There was no time right now to take a trip down memory lane.
“Exactly the same. But don’t worry, he’s guarded heavily and he won’t get to see any daylight for the rest of his life.”
“Good to know.”
“Hon, who is Bryan McKenzie?” El asked. She knew a lot of names from Peter’s cases, but this one didn’t ring a bell.
“He was not only Sara’s former boss at Sterling Bosch, they two of them also had a personal history, from what Diana told me. It was the case she and Neal did together while we were celebrating your birthday.”
“Oh, okay.”
New York Harbor
Francis Allen McDonald was every bit of your typical American Irish. And probably nobody was surprised to learn that he owned a small pub near the Harbor. It has left his heydays already far behind it, but still, night after night, a loyal crowd could be found inside the building.
Which on the other hand meant that he had to prepare the pub during the day. Opening the wooden gate leading to the beverage storage, McDonald was lost in his own thoughts, mostly on what he might get his wife Barbara for their upcoming wedding anniversary – until the sudden appearance of a pair of striking blue eyes jolted him out of his reverie.
“Holy Mary!” McDonald took a deep breath and finally got a good look at the young man in the dirty rags, leaning on one of the big Guinness barrels as if it was the only thing to keep him upright.
“So… sorry… didn’t mean to scare you,” the young man stuttered out, pulling his whole body ever so slowly behind the barrel, as if to create a physical barrier between him and McDonald.
“You didn’t, son. I was just lost in my own world, you know?” McDonald took a step toward the man, which caused his guest to visibly flinch. What on God’s green Earth had happened to this stranger?
“Son, can I help you somehow?”
The younger man blinked, as if he didn’t understand a word McDonald was saying. McDonald on the other hand took the time his guest was contemplating the offer to give him a onceover. The dirty rags resembled, with just some imagination, a pair of jeans, a shirt and a jacket, but somehow, the stranger was without some shoes.
“Could… could I get just a glass of water?” the young man said all of a sudden.
“Of course, son. Come, let’s get you inside. It’s probably a bit warmer as well.”
The young man hesitated for a second before slowly following McDonald over to the back door of his pub.
Once inside, McDonald led the stranger over to the nearest booth, where the young man all but collapsed, his whole body going limp like a ragdoll. After making sure that his impromptu guest didn’t fall from the bench, McDonald went over to the bar to grab not only a bottle of water, but also a bit to eat for the stranger.
White Collar offices
Within seconds after Diana’s call about the mistaken identity of the body, the spirits of all agents were lifted. They all would have closed the case nonetheless, but now, knowing that Neal might still be alive, gave them all a new surge of energy and hope.
When Peter and Diana came back, Jones, Bancroft and Hughes were up in the conference room, going over the information they got from the NYPD regarding the location of the body. Diana joined them immediately, while Peter went into his own office, intent on printing out the information Sally had retrieved.
While waiting for his printer to finish the job, Peter did some thinking. Why was Fowler attacking Neal right now? And how many others were involved in the case? He looked up, out to the bullpen and the many agents in the unit. Did they have a mole in here? Was one of the higher-ups, both here in New York and down in Washington, involved? Shaking his head, Peter refocused his attention on the job at hand – bringing Neal home.
Coming soon: Neal is finally reunited with the team – and with Sara.
